If the Sun Never Sets - Ana Huang Page 0,2

her down and spent the past year running around like a crazy person. Between his project and Blake’s constant travels, this was the first time they’d seen each other face-to-face in half a year.

“Great.” Landon raked a hand through his black hair. “We got fantastic press and the new interiors are amazing. Even better than I’d imagined. I could refer you. The design firm did a top-notch job.”

“The bar design is set,” Blake reminded his friend. Besides buying his apartment and ending his nomadic lifestyle, he had another reason for coming to New York: Manhattan was getting its very own Legends.

Since Blake’s original Legends sports bar took off in Austin four years ago, he’d expanded the brand into a renowned international chain at a breakneck pace. From London to L.A., Legends was the place to go on game days. Even on non-game days, it buzzed with activity thanks to its bar Olympics, theme and trivia nights, and celebrity guest bartenders. It was a rite of passage for NFL, NBA, and MLB players to do at least one stint behind the bar of their local Legends. Blake had even bought back Landon’s share of the company last year.

They’d been equal partners, and the Zinterhofer name and connections in the hospitality industry had played a role in Legends’ rapid ascent to the top, but Landon had given Blake the startup capital as a friend helping a friend. The more Landon became enmeshed in his mother’s business, the less time he had for Legends, so splitting as business partners had been a mutually beneficial decision.

Yes, the Legends empire was alive and well, but Blake’s vision for the New York branch wasn’t just a regular ol’ sports bar. It was going to be different. Elevated. And he couldn’t wait to unveil it to the world this October.

T-minus six months.

Blake was successful enough now to have a team that dealt with the details and grunt work he’d shouldered in the early years, but he liked to be present and oversee things before any grand opening.

New York was going to the biggest opening in Legends history, and he sure as hell was going to be here every step of the way.

“I’m not talking about the bar.” Landon opened the fridge and handed Blake a beer like he was in his own apartment. He’d connected Blake with the seller—a famous fashion designer who’d moved to the south of France after tiring of city life—so Blake couldn’t complain too much. “I’m talking about this apartment.”

“What’s wrong with the apartment?”

“Nothing. The apartment is great. The decor sucks.”

Blake cracked open his beer with a frown. “Give me a break. I bought this place a week ago.”

Landon raised a skeptical brow. “So you’re planning to decorate it all by yourself?”

Blake grimaced. While he appreciated a nice home, he had no desire, patience, or time to tackle a design project. Besides, you don’t need anything other than a couch, coffee table, and TV in your living room. Right?

“Bro, let me set you up with the interior designers I used for the hotel. They do residential work, too. There was one who was particularly good, and she’s much nicer than the other two.”

An ache spread through Blake’s chest at the words “interior designers.” It was sad, how the slightest thing could still remind him of her after half a decade.

Blake wondered how she was doing. They weren’t friends on social media, and her accounts were private, but he managed to squeeze an update out of Sammy every now and then. Last he heard, she was living in New York.

His stomach did a dumb little flip when he realized they were within fifteen miles of each other. He hadn’t reached out to Farrah after he ended things with Cleo—partly because he’d been in such a dark place the first few years, and partly because he didn’t think he deserved her forgiveness or sympathy.

But now that they were in the same city…

Blake’s mouth dried. He shouldn’t. He didn’t want to barge in and upend her life after five years, but he missed her so damn much. It was selfish, but he wanted to see her again. Maybe, after all the time that had passed, she didn’t hate him as much.

“Blake?” Landon prompted. “What do you think about hiring a designer?”

“Fine.” Blake was too flustered by memories of warm chocolate eyes and golden skin to argue with Landon. “I’ll hire a damn designer.”

Note to self: Text Sammy and get Farrah’s number.

“Excellent.” Landon grinned. “I’ll set up

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